Today, I am having a day.
Today my hair is greasy and my skin is shiny (not glowing, just shiny). I have an incredibly huge, ahem, inflamation right smack in the middle of my cheek that makes me look all of 14 years old.
I did not get enough sleep last night which meant my morning routine got screwed up, which meant that I was running very late for my 8:30 meeting , which meant that I ran out the door wearing....
a dress that is just a tad too low for work-appropriate. This means I have been constantly readjusting the thing every two seconds all day long. And to make matters worse, I am certain that our CEO caught me in the re-adjusting, looking down with the "can you see down my dress" ponder, twisty, turn-y act as he walked around the corner this morning.
I went to the Futon store during lunch to find a new futon cover as ours has been through the ringer only to find that it has closed/gone out of business/was seized. I never knew how tough it would be to find a cover for one of these things.
I am several pounds heavier than I was yesterday - and I feel it. So what if I maybe had a hotdog, 2 beers, ice cream, and possibly some candy at the Rockie's game last night? We rode our bikes to and from...doesn't that count for anything? grr.
I can not, for the life of me, find our original "before" pictures of our basement on our computer. The ones from when we first moved in. And because I am that stubborn, I don't want to post any afters. Our carpet was installed Monday and looks lovely, but I just have to show you befores...and, yes, that is a whine.
I am on our company picnic's planning committee - which happens to be this Sunday. There are several things that bother me about this.
#1) Somehow I feel like my job has been defined as such. Tiffany, the company picnic planner. Doesn't have anything else she could/should/wants to be doing. We will ask her all things picnic related including what side dishes are still needed, can we bring our dog, is alcohol allowed at the park, what the weather is going to be like, what will we do if there is rain, how does the game badminton work, etc. etc. We will drop all supplies including plates, napkins, red and white table cloths, paper plates and loads of Country Time Lemonade off at her desk as if it were the picnic headquarters. She will arrive early to the picnic to see that the 2x5 monster grill arrives safely and she will stay late to see that everyone has thrown away their paper cup.
#2) The thing is on a weekend - in the middle of the day - all day. And while I do love my company, nothing really makes me want to spend a whole day with the receptionist/accountant/IT guy on my day off. I mean really.
#3) I will most likely be assigned all other random tasks from here on out. Think holiday parties, company get togethers, charity functions, etc. And not because I think I am doing a fabulous job or am tooting my own horn here. Rather because we lost most of these "catch all" people during layoffs and I can sense that they have been hunting for suitable replacement. Mind you, suitable just means not running the other way when asked to help.
With that, I'll continue with my real job equipped with my greasy hair, shiny skin, large zit, futon cover-less, picnic e-mail overload, heavy-feeling self for just a few more hours and wait for this day to pass. geesh.
PS - perhaps it is a problem that most of my posts have been catergorized rants and raves?! ;)
Showing posts with label Rants / Raves. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rants / Raves. Show all posts
7.22.2009
7.15.2009
Thoughts
While I do love me some postings about shoes and the like, the reality is that my thoughts have been annoyingly preoccupied with the not so small, but rather very consuming, topic of...
Kids. Gah - even typing the word makes me a little nervous.
I have always wanted kids. Have desired to be a mom since I was old enough to a hold a doll (I even spent my 7-year-old allowance on real baby dipers for them). I have honestly admitted, "I want to be a mom", to the question of: "What do you want to do (fill in the blank) ...when you get older? ....with your degree? ...with your life?" I watch a baby story daily, light up when I spend time with kids and know what a 'Bumbo' is without having a clue about pregnancy.
I am now madly in love with and happily married to a man who also wants kids. We have one little house, two little incomes, and countless reasons why a baby would fit happily into our lives.
Can someone please tell me why then, I am all of a sudden scared to death of the aforementioned subject? Why it has consumed me and every other conversation I have with my poor husband?
Although we have never wanted a "plan" per say, there still has to be some sort of "no plan" that we commit to in order to ...let's just see what happens. In our minds, the "no plan" is planned to happen in the next year or so. Hmm, follow me?
There are several things that excite me to no end and also some that seem to scare me right out of the "no plan" timeline.
Some of these things include: Will we make "friends with kids" friends?, can we ever go out again?, will our "friends with no kids" friends still like us?, will I hate having to share the time I get with my husband? will this really be fun - forever? Can I still have wine every night? Oh, and can someone please answer Chris's burning question: WILL HE BE ABLE TO RIDE HIS MOUNTAIN BIKE AFTER WORK?
I guess what I am having trouble recognizing the most is if these feelings are telling me that we. are. not. ready. or rather that we'll never be "ready" and to embrace this new (potential) chapter in our lives.
We hear that we should wait. We hear that we shouldn't. We hear we should have more money - kids are expensive. We hear things work themselves out. We hear that we need to take time for ourselves, for our marriage. We hear that too much growth and you become fiercely independent. We hear that kids change things. For the best and for the not-so-much-the-best. We hear that we are so young. We hear that we would make great parents. We scare some, excite others.
We have heard and truly listen to all ends of the spectrum and ultimately we know that no one can make the decision except for ourselves. This is proving to be the hard part. Daily, we change our minds about where we should go from here. We are also fully aware that when we do decide, we may not be blessed to have it all work out as we had hoped - which is so scary in itself.
I would really love and appreciate your thoughts on the subject, as I am driving myself nuts with my own. I wish I could just appreciate the moment we are at without looking towards the future. Then again, the future is just too exciting and scary not to peek...
Kids. Gah - even typing the word makes me a little nervous.
I have always wanted kids. Have desired to be a mom since I was old enough to a hold a doll (I even spent my 7-year-old allowance on real baby dipers for them). I have honestly admitted, "I want to be a mom", to the question of: "What do you want to do (fill in the blank) ...when you get older? ....with your degree? ...with your life?" I watch a baby story daily, light up when I spend time with kids and know what a 'Bumbo' is without having a clue about pregnancy.
I am now madly in love with and happily married to a man who also wants kids. We have one little house, two little incomes, and countless reasons why a baby would fit happily into our lives.
Can someone please tell me why then, I am all of a sudden scared to death of the aforementioned subject? Why it has consumed me and every other conversation I have with my poor husband?
Although we have never wanted a "plan" per say, there still has to be some sort of "no plan" that we commit to in order to ...let's just see what happens. In our minds, the "no plan" is planned to happen in the next year or so. Hmm, follow me?
There are several things that excite me to no end and also some that seem to scare me right out of the "no plan" timeline.
Some of these things include: Will we make "friends with kids" friends?, can we ever go out again?, will our "friends with no kids" friends still like us?, will I hate having to share the time I get with my husband? will this really be fun - forever? Can I still have wine every night? Oh, and can someone please answer Chris's burning question: WILL HE BE ABLE TO RIDE HIS MOUNTAIN BIKE AFTER WORK?
I guess what I am having trouble recognizing the most is if these feelings are telling me that we. are. not. ready. or rather that we'll never be "ready" and to embrace this new (potential) chapter in our lives.
We hear that we should wait. We hear that we shouldn't. We hear we should have more money - kids are expensive. We hear things work themselves out. We hear that we need to take time for ourselves, for our marriage. We hear that too much growth and you become fiercely independent. We hear that kids change things. For the best and for the not-so-much-the-best. We hear that we are so young. We hear that we would make great parents. We scare some, excite others.
We have heard and truly listen to all ends of the spectrum and ultimately we know that no one can make the decision except for ourselves. This is proving to be the hard part. Daily, we change our minds about where we should go from here. We are also fully aware that when we do decide, we may not be blessed to have it all work out as we had hoped - which is so scary in itself.
I would really love and appreciate your thoughts on the subject, as I am driving myself nuts with my own. I wish I could just appreciate the moment we are at without looking towards the future. Then again, the future is just too exciting and scary not to peek...
6.26.2009
Chaotic Lunchtime Adventure
That's how I would describe my last hour. Let's discuss:
A) Decided to walk across the street to Subway on this beautiful 90-degree afternoon. Seems like a simple enough task, right? Yea, not so much. Apparently on a Friday afternoon Colorado Blvd. turns into Interstate 70 and pedestrians are not welcome. With no crosswalks, only a skinny strip of median keeping me from the Southbound and Northbound lanes and cars barreling to a stop, I'm lucky to be alive. My hour lunch was half over by the time I got there.
B) I am still trying to figure out the person who made my sandwich. Girl, boy, man, woman? Hard to tell really. I blame this one on society's (fine, my) need to label humans either male or female at first glance. I take comfort in knowing what sex is creating my vegetarian masterpiece.
- Very Muscular and Hairy Forearms (+ 1 for man)
- Strawberry Shortcake Necklace (+1 for girl)
- Long Hair in a Bun (+1 for woman)
- Deep Voice (+1 for man)
- Eyeshadow and Mascara that is halfway decent (+ 1 for woman)
- Called me Sweetie (Don't care either way - this drives me nuts)
- No Chest (+1 for boy, man or girl)
- No Adams Apple (+1 for boy, girl or woman)
- Butterfly Tattoo on Bicep (er, Butterfly = +1 for girl, Bicep = +1 for man and Tattoo = ? But over the age of 18)
Yea, still stumped on this one. My gender studies class in college has taught me better than to judge. But as for curiosity and the amount of time it took up my lunchtime thoughts - I surrender.
C) Cat Calling / Whistling / Honking directed towards yours truly on my walk back. I am fairly certain that this is a prime reason why women in particular choose to drive across the street, to the neighbors or practically all the way into a store to find the closest parking space available. All to avoid the dreaded idiots who call from their car windows.
Let me also be clear, that I am not being vain here. I am at work. I am wearing a freaking sweater not a bikini. I am in flip flops not stilettos and I am in jeans not daisy dukes. Plus I had sunglasses on - avoided eye contact at all costs. I am clearly not shouting, "Harass me gentleman!" What's worse is that all of the heckling attracts others to look your way. Now half the state is wondering why a girl with jeans, a sweater and big zit on her forehead is getting attention. Lovely.
I mean, really, what is with the, "Blondie!"? Or the "Whhoo wooo" whistles with a honk? Or my favorite, just, "Hey. Heeeeyyy!!" And ladies, you know the drill... look down. Ignore. Keep walking. Breathe a sigh of relief when they pass. Occasionally this will frustrate them even more and you get the "Aww, come on" 's. And while I continue with said routine above, there are many times that I actually consider answering back with, "Well, hey there. Where are you headed?" Or perhaps with a wink and a "Right back at you Handsome". All accompanied by the middle finger mind you.
I mean seriously, how do they expect you to respond? I assume this may throw them for a loop and I kind of think it would be an fun test. Anyone agree here?
And so there you have it - my chaotic, Friday luncheon adventures. I am now back safe and sound at my peaceful desk admiring the beautiful view from my 7th floor office window - and feeling like I will in fact be driving myself to a dining establishment next time for lunch.
A) Decided to walk across the street to Subway on this beautiful 90-degree afternoon. Seems like a simple enough task, right? Yea, not so much. Apparently on a Friday afternoon Colorado Blvd. turns into Interstate 70 and pedestrians are not welcome. With no crosswalks, only a skinny strip of median keeping me from the Southbound and Northbound lanes and cars barreling to a stop, I'm lucky to be alive. My hour lunch was half over by the time I got there.
B) I am still trying to figure out the person who made my sandwich. Girl, boy, man, woman? Hard to tell really. I blame this one on society's (fine, my) need to label humans either male or female at first glance. I take comfort in knowing what sex is creating my vegetarian masterpiece.
- Very Muscular and Hairy Forearms (+ 1 for man)
- Strawberry Shortcake Necklace (+1 for girl)
- Long Hair in a Bun (+1 for woman)
- Deep Voice (+1 for man)
- Eyeshadow and Mascara that is halfway decent (+ 1 for woman)
- Called me Sweetie (Don't care either way - this drives me nuts)
- No Chest (+1 for boy, man or girl)
- No Adams Apple (+1 for boy, girl or woman)
- Butterfly Tattoo on Bicep (er, Butterfly = +1 for girl, Bicep = +1 for man and Tattoo = ? But over the age of 18)
Yea, still stumped on this one. My gender studies class in college has taught me better than to judge. But as for curiosity and the amount of time it took up my lunchtime thoughts - I surrender.
C) Cat Calling / Whistling / Honking directed towards yours truly on my walk back. I am fairly certain that this is a prime reason why women in particular choose to drive across the street, to the neighbors or practically all the way into a store to find the closest parking space available. All to avoid the dreaded idiots who call from their car windows.
Let me also be clear, that I am not being vain here. I am at work. I am wearing a freaking sweater not a bikini. I am in flip flops not stilettos and I am in jeans not daisy dukes. Plus I had sunglasses on - avoided eye contact at all costs. I am clearly not shouting, "Harass me gentleman!" What's worse is that all of the heckling attracts others to look your way. Now half the state is wondering why a girl with jeans, a sweater and big zit on her forehead is getting attention. Lovely.
I mean, really, what is with the, "Blondie!"? Or the "Whhoo wooo" whistles with a honk? Or my favorite, just, "Hey. Heeeeyyy!!" And ladies, you know the drill... look down. Ignore. Keep walking. Breathe a sigh of relief when they pass. Occasionally this will frustrate them even more and you get the "Aww, come on" 's. And while I continue with said routine above, there are many times that I actually consider answering back with, "Well, hey there. Where are you headed?" Or perhaps with a wink and a "Right back at you Handsome". All accompanied by the middle finger mind you.
I mean seriously, how do they expect you to respond? I assume this may throw them for a loop and I kind of think it would be an fun test. Anyone agree here?
And so there you have it - my chaotic, Friday luncheon adventures. I am now back safe and sound at my peaceful desk admiring the beautiful view from my 7th floor office window - and feeling like I will in fact be driving myself to a dining establishment next time for lunch.
6.18.2009
chris + tiff = love... (usually)
tiff: "what's wrong, do you not like dinner?"
chris: "I do, I just wonder why when I talk about work you're not interested and when you talk about work, you expect me to get excited"
tiff: silence.
chris: "What? Are you mad?"
tiff: silence.
chris: "Are you going to say something? I mean I feel like if people asked what I do you wouldn't know all that i do."
tiff: "What?! I listen to you ALL the time. That is so unfair. And so NOT true. You are a Mechanical Engineer for a construction company and you put together RFP's."
chris: "No. I am a Project Engineer for a mechanical company and I put together RFI's. See?"
tiff: "Well exuse me. ugh. I mean it's a lot of words to keep track of. What do I do then, huh? What's my title?"
chris: silence.
tiff: "huh?"
chris: silence.
tiff: pick up dishes and LOUDLY clean up dinner and load the dishwasher. Chip a plate.
chris: smirks at me for chipping the plate.
tiff: "You are not perfect!!!!!" and storm out of the room. For some reason I feel the need to pull out this line every time we fight - totally random!
chris: An hour later, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you mad"
Now, this is where it gets worse - I can not move on. Read:
tiff: "well, you really hurt my feelings. Why do you have to say things like that?"
chris: "I know, that's why I'm sorry."
tiff: "well, I'm still sad. You hurt my feelings. Are you really sorry?"
chris: "YES. I am sorry.
tiff: "I mean, Chris, I do listen to you. And you really did hurt my feelings. Why do you have to say that to me?"
chris: walks out of the room.
tiff: "Well, okay. Fine. It's fine. I mean, I just wish you didn't say that."
chris: silence.
tiff: "Ahhh. whatever. it's fine. But, I mean....
chris: "OKAY! Enough."
tiff: "Well, it's just. Chris. you hurt my feelings. Why did you say that?"
tiff: Reading the VERY unpleasant look on his face: "Okay, okay, I know. Fine. I'm over it. I'm sorry."
tiff: "want to come on a walk with me?"
chris: "No thank you."
tiff: "Are you kidding me? No thank you?! See, you aren't sorry. You're still mad. Ugh. This is not MY fault! Fine, I'm going by myself. Hmph."
chris: "okay, please leave."
tiff: slams door. Comes back in. "Really you are not coming? Why?"
...Oh yes folks, this nothing-ness fight continues until morning - I think we were still fighting during our sleep. We were still cranky when we grudgingly gave each other a hug this morning.
Pretty sure he thinks I am a pain in the you know what....
BUT - I love him. I love Chris and can't think of anyone I would rather be fighting with (if that makes sense). After all, I AM a pain. We'll get over it - until next time.
Ah, such is life.
I'm sorry husband. I think you are the best project engineer for your mechanical company ever. Please forgive me.
chris: "I do, I just wonder why when I talk about work you're not interested and when you talk about work, you expect me to get excited"
tiff: silence.
chris: "What? Are you mad?"
tiff: silence.
chris: "Are you going to say something? I mean I feel like if people asked what I do you wouldn't know all that i do."
tiff: "What?! I listen to you ALL the time. That is so unfair. And so NOT true. You are a Mechanical Engineer for a construction company and you put together RFP's."
chris: "No. I am a Project Engineer for a mechanical company and I put together RFI's. See?"
tiff: "Well exuse me. ugh. I mean it's a lot of words to keep track of. What do I do then, huh? What's my title?"
chris: silence.
tiff: "huh?"
chris: silence.
tiff: pick up dishes and LOUDLY clean up dinner and load the dishwasher. Chip a plate.
chris: smirks at me for chipping the plate.
tiff: "You are not perfect!!!!!" and storm out of the room. For some reason I feel the need to pull out this line every time we fight - totally random!
chris: An hour later, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you mad"
Now, this is where it gets worse - I can not move on. Read:
tiff: "well, you really hurt my feelings. Why do you have to say things like that?"
chris: "I know, that's why I'm sorry."
tiff: "well, I'm still sad. You hurt my feelings. Are you really sorry?"
chris: "YES. I am sorry.
tiff: "I mean, Chris, I do listen to you. And you really did hurt my feelings. Why do you have to say that to me?"
chris: walks out of the room.
tiff: "Well, okay. Fine. It's fine. I mean, I just wish you didn't say that."
chris: silence.
tiff: "Ahhh. whatever. it's fine. But, I mean....
chris: "OKAY! Enough."
tiff: "Well, it's just. Chris. you hurt my feelings. Why did you say that?"
tiff: Reading the VERY unpleasant look on his face: "Okay, okay, I know. Fine. I'm over it. I'm sorry."
tiff: "want to come on a walk with me?"
chris: "No thank you."
tiff: "Are you kidding me? No thank you?! See, you aren't sorry. You're still mad. Ugh. This is not MY fault! Fine, I'm going by myself. Hmph."
chris: "okay, please leave."
tiff: slams door. Comes back in. "Really you are not coming? Why?"
...Oh yes folks, this nothing-ness fight continues until morning - I think we were still fighting during our sleep. We were still cranky when we grudgingly gave each other a hug this morning.
Pretty sure he thinks I am a pain in the you know what....
BUT - I love him. I love Chris and can't think of anyone I would rather be fighting with (if that makes sense). After all, I AM a pain. We'll get over it - until next time.
Ah, such is life.
I'm sorry husband. I think you are the best project engineer for your mechanical company ever. Please forgive me.
5.28.2009
WalMart
How do you do it?
I mean, I know how you do it (so no need to post a comment giving me an answer), but really, how are your prices just that much lower than my beloved red-basketed counter part?
Your trends may not always be quite up to par and I may feel a bit (aka: totally) out of place as the blond haired blue eyed white girl as I walk into your Denver's Northeast neighborhood location, but you really do swoon me with your prices.
I took the leap of faith last night after realizing that my 4-year old nieces birthday party decor was outdoing my entire household ensemble. I had a come-to-jesus over all of the loot that covered our dining room table and made 'Keep' (because this stuff really is that adorable) piles and 'Return' (because it's a 4 year-old's birthday party for goodness sakes, not a freaking wedding!) piles and decided, grudgingly, to head to ol' Wally for what remained on my list.
Mind you, I have seen the Michael Moore films, WalMart The Documentary, read Fast Food Nation and am cautiously aware of their buying power monopoly that they hold over the little guys- and I have sworn off that Smiley Face "mascot" time and time and again. But, what, with $2.50 pints of Ben & Jerry's, $1.50 Crystal Light packets, $1.00 paper products and a whole bargain home section dedicated to the latest trends (i.e., stuff that I can't resist right now but will most likely hate in a month), who can really say no to this box store full of crap / completely necessary items? Not to mention I found a sea of pink birthday stuff perfectly suitable, and much more reasonable, for a little girls 'Garden Party' on Saturday.
I. am. excited.
All in all a good trip with loads of savings.
Thoughts on WalMart....Love it? Hate it? Ban it?
I mean, I know how you do it (so no need to post a comment giving me an answer), but really, how are your prices just that much lower than my beloved red-basketed counter part?
Your trends may not always be quite up to par and I may feel a bit (aka: totally) out of place as the blond haired blue eyed white girl as I walk into your Denver's Northeast neighborhood location, but you really do swoon me with your prices.
I took the leap of faith last night after realizing that my 4-year old nieces birthday party decor was outdoing my entire household ensemble. I had a come-to-jesus over all of the loot that covered our dining room table and made 'Keep' (because this stuff really is that adorable) piles and 'Return' (because it's a 4 year-old's birthday party for goodness sakes, not a freaking wedding!) piles and decided, grudgingly, to head to ol' Wally for what remained on my list.
Mind you, I have seen the Michael Moore films, WalMart The Documentary, read Fast Food Nation and am cautiously aware of their buying power monopoly that they hold over the little guys- and I have sworn off that Smiley Face "mascot" time and time and again. But, what, with $2.50 pints of Ben & Jerry's, $1.50 Crystal Light packets, $1.00 paper products and a whole bargain home section dedicated to the latest trends (i.e., stuff that I can't resist right now but will most likely hate in a month), who can really say no to this box store full of crap / completely necessary items? Not to mention I found a sea of pink birthday stuff perfectly suitable, and much more reasonable, for a little girls 'Garden Party' on Saturday.
I. am. excited.
All in all a good trip with loads of savings.
Thoughts on WalMart....Love it? Hate it? Ban it?
4.16.2009
Boy-isms
Why is it impossible for a boy to make a bed correctly? Clearly the left side of the duvet cover should not touch the floor while the right side is up so high the mattress is showing.
Why do their clothes get the funkiest of smells? I swear something died in the pair of biking shorts sitting a top our laundry basket. I had to place them in two plastic bags this morning so I could get ready in peace. I fear that something may start growing in there by this afternoon.
Why do boys think it's perfectly acceptable to have a Tony's frozen pizza (think cardboard-like crust, un-identifiable pieces of brown stuff which I think are supposed to represent sausage and frozen bits of "green peppers") when we're having his parents over for dinner and thinks I'm nuts when I say that we will NOT be serving Sir Tony to our guests.
Why do they wait until you are in all of your pms-ing glory to have an opinion on your looks? "Those shoes really don't match your dress." "Didn't you wear that shirt yesterday?" "Are you sure you want to wear your hair curly today? I really like it straight."
A) Um, you're right. They don't "match". But NEWSFLASH - a green dress with a green necklace AND green flats just may be St. Patty's day-gone bad-overkill. So fear not, green and pink are complimenting colors and go quite well together my friend. Thanks though, for looking out for me and all.
B) Yep, I did wear this shirt yesterday and I just might wear it again tomorrow and perhaps the next day too. It's the only thing in our closet that doesn't make me look like a beached whale. Comprende?
C) Do you really think I just spent 45 minutes holding my hand up in the air with a 90 degree curling iron 2 centimeters from my face getting these curls to perfection because I wanted to wear it straight? Duh.
Now, I am not talking about any boy in particular, of course. Nope, my husband hasn't done any of the aforementioned things. he's. perfect.
Why do their clothes get the funkiest of smells? I swear something died in the pair of biking shorts sitting a top our laundry basket. I had to place them in two plastic bags this morning so I could get ready in peace. I fear that something may start growing in there by this afternoon.
Why do boys think it's perfectly acceptable to have a Tony's frozen pizza (think cardboard-like crust, un-identifiable pieces of brown stuff which I think are supposed to represent sausage and frozen bits of "green peppers") when we're having his parents over for dinner and thinks I'm nuts when I say that we will NOT be serving Sir Tony to our guests.
Perhaps it's worse that we even have a Tony's frozen pizza in our freezer. Shame on me for not filtering this one out of the grocery cart. Bleh.
Why do they insist on cuddling with you and snuggling up against you at 4:50 AM before they have to get up for work? Really? Come on babe, get a clue. You knew that kick to your thigh was coming.
Why do they tell you they love making coffee for you in the morning, but when they suddenly swap their morning joe for tea as of late, the coffee very mysteriously stops getting made? Huh, yea - very interesting.
Why do they insist on cuddling with you and snuggling up against you at 4:50 AM before they have to get up for work? Really? Come on babe, get a clue. You knew that kick to your thigh was coming.
Why do they tell you they love making coffee for you in the morning, but when they suddenly swap their morning joe for tea as of late, the coffee very mysteriously stops getting made? Huh, yea - very interesting.
Why do they wait until you are in all of your pms-ing glory to have an opinion on your looks? "Those shoes really don't match your dress." "Didn't you wear that shirt yesterday?" "Are you sure you want to wear your hair curly today? I really like it straight."
A) Um, you're right. They don't "match". But NEWSFLASH - a green dress with a green necklace AND green flats just may be St. Patty's day-gone bad-overkill. So fear not, green and pink are complimenting colors and go quite well together my friend. Thanks though, for looking out for me and all.
B) Yep, I did wear this shirt yesterday and I just might wear it again tomorrow and perhaps the next day too. It's the only thing in our closet that doesn't make me look like a beached whale. Comprende?
C) Do you really think I just spent 45 minutes holding my hand up in the air with a 90 degree curling iron 2 centimeters from my face getting these curls to perfection because I wanted to wear it straight? Duh.
Now, I am not talking about any boy in particular, of course. Nope, my husband hasn't done any of the aforementioned things. he's. perfect.
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